


Revenge

by SavageSeraphim



Series: Inktober 2018 [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Implied Relationships, Inktober, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 16:48:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16162922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SavageSeraphim/pseuds/SavageSeraphim
Summary: The Golden Boy has long since learned when restraint is necessary. However, as time goes on, that seems to be the case less and less.





	Revenge

It’s not that Gavin can’t let the insult go. The figure in front of him, looming and sneering like he’s got something over them, is practically harmless in the face of the Fakes. Useful, sure, but no more than any other dealer they could find. And Gavin’s long since learned to reign in his temper when he really needs to. So no, it’s not that he can’t. 

It’s that he doesn’t want to. 

See, Gavin’s spent a lot of time having to keep his head down. Being invisible is far safer when you’re young and hungry and damn near everyone seems more dangerous than you are. The skyline of Los Santos, her mountains and oceans and gleaming city lights, is gorgeous. But from the ground, trying to scrape by on charm and quick fingers with gunshots ringing out on the hour, it feels like trying to fight against drowning. Every moment spent breathing is a moment spent in anticipation of the next wave, wondering if he would survive it. 

Not anymore. Now, he’s flying high, grin curved something wicked as he feels the lads stiffen behind him. Michael, his boi with a temper like gunpowder and a laugh like sparks igniting, who taught him how to stare down devils till they flinched first. And Jeremy, built like a bruiser and painted like something venomous, all signs pointing to danger despite his big-hearted nature. They’ll both tease him endlessly on their own terms, but the moment the threat comes from outside they’re fiercely protective. 

One word from him and they’ll leave this guy in tatters. Gavin’s seen it before, knows their eagerness as well as he knows his own. It doesn’t take much. They can be reigned in too, sure, when it’s necessary. Here, in this quiet alleyway without a whisper of order to contain the chaos, it isn’t. 

The Golden Boy’s laugh starts as a soft thing, shaking his head slowly as if in disappointment. 

“Would you like to repeat that?” It’s spoken so sweetly, and from the corner of his eye Gavin sees Michael’s lips twitch. He’d been stoic a moment ago, waiting for Gavin’s response, letting their ‘face’ take the lead. But the pretense of civility is dropping and the lads thrive in this space, right at the moment that the barriers start to fall. 

“You heard me, you little brat. I’m not going to waste my time -” There’s frustration building in the man, grimacing at Gavin’s laughter, unused to being looked down on by someone who looks so far out of place. The frontman glimmers gold in a city covered in soot and grime, it makes him a standout. This, too, is as much a warning as any. Those who are willing to be visible in a city full of assassins and sniper scopes usually have a reason for their confidence. 

“Actually, that’s enough. Mogar?” The upturned lilt to Gavin’s voice is familiar and Michael responds to it eagerly, shifting from Gavin’s shadow in a flash of movement that ends in a silenced pistol at the man’s head, another gun kicked to Jeremy’s feet before the threat is even realized. Jeremy’s quick to scoop up the weapon, aiming it towards the gut.

They’re remarkably efficient and could have the figure dead twice over, but they both stop. They won’t admit it on their dying breath, but when it’s just the lads, Gavin is the one who calls the shots. 

It’s a power wielded like puppet strings, connected from the shining rings on his fingers to loop around their throats, but he adores them both more than anything. Would give them anything they wanted, everything they needed, the moment he could get his own hands on it. 

Right now they wanted revenge. 

Mercurial, vicious creatures who’d tasted the sour insult and wanted nothing more than to wash it out with the taste of vengeance. Gavin flicked open a knife. A pretty thing, ornate, with a jagged blade. He could almost feel the man’s heartbeat pick up the pace, gone silent now. Smartest thing he’d likely done in his life. 

“You wanna flip for it?” It’s spoken casually, as if they’ve done this dozens of times before, and Michael gets a glint in his eye that Gavin is all too familiar with. He’s known his boi longer, of course, knows his tells. Jeremy sees it too and laughs, that quiet one like he’s trying to stifle something much more raucous. 

“Nah, Mogs can have it.” He keeps up his aim as Michael moves over to Gavin, taking the hilt of the knife as he brushes close to Gavin’s ear, whispering to him.

“Alive?” It’s almost a casual question, Michael seems less interested in the answer than he is in running his fingers over the edge of the knife, appropriately careful as he examines the piece.

“Yes.” 

It’s a small mercy and Gavin winks as Jeremy takes hold of the figure, brushing a kiss on Michael’s cheek before leaving the two of them to their devices. He leans on a relatively clean section of the wall, sunglasses propped up on top of his head as he watches his lads work.

The best revenge against the city that ruined him is ruling it, becoming sharper and more volatile than anything it ever threw at him.

The sweetest reward will be cleaning up the lads once they’re done, bounding back to him with pride shining between bloodstains. He's gotten accustomed to the routine of it, to Geoff shaking his head and calling up a new contact, to Michael and Jeremy coming back to his side all the more refreshed by the almost therapeutic experience of instant gratification in the face of insult. 

He knows what Geoff knows - That they're only going to get more dangerous, more reckless, ruinous and explosive and just as likely to destroy as to conquer. The difference is that Gavin doesn't particularly care, he'll take every ounce of satisfaction he can get out of it on the ride and if it leaves the city in shambles so be it.

Gavin looks up at the smog which covers the face of the moon, and he feels a chuckle rising up in his throat. Los Santos should have killed him when it had the chance.

**Author's Note:**

> Inktober writing challenge! List found here https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/friends-love-each-other/178621260980
> 
> I may not be doing these every day, especially since I'm still working on Impulse Control, but I'm planning to do a couple! Let me know if there's any specific prompts you're really curious about / would like to see!


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